My Boys
by RiverDapple
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Phoebe has had her past go up in literal flames. She now has to learn how to live with her godfather, who she's only ever met once, and his flatmate. AmazingPhil and danisnotonfire fanfic - not Phan
1. Chapter 1

Hello all - I am publishing this story on this website on behalf of my friend Josie, who does not have an account :3

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We drove, and drove, and drove, until I was sure we couldn't drive anymore because surely,_surely_ we would just drive clean off the road in Brighton into the English Channel if we kept going. Then, while I watched the blurring shapes speed past, I almost willed the car to keep going, to drive until it hit the cold water and trap us all in this metal shell that was my best-friend's family car.

I had been staying with her – my best friend, Sarah, that is – and her family for the last couple of days, and today, exactly five days since it had happened, Sarah and her parents where driving me to London to drop me off at my new house.

"It'll be good for you," they had said. "Refreshing."

"They'll make you happy," they told me.

"Your parents would want this for you," they would repeat time and time again.

But they were wrong, despite their best intent to make me feel better. In fact, all it did was make me feel worse. How would they know if this would be good for me? I failed to see how being away from Sarah and my friends would be good for me. I didn't understand how, just because I was away from the burnt out carcass that was my parents' house, they expect me to forget about what had happened, to move on effortlessly. Little did they know that the black remains which held my childhood memories had been burnt into my brain, and the bright flames danced tauntingly at the darkness of dreams, so it was near impossible to even close my eyes, let alone get a good night of sleep.

This wasn't what my parents would want for me – what they would want would be for us to be sitting on the couches and armchairs by the TV in the lounge, safe and cuddled up, watching a movie we had rented because the weather was too cold or too wet – which ever excuse my dad would find.

Instead, I was driving miles away from Manchester watching the grey skies crack open and release their cold, continuous water drops. Instead, my father was in hospital with third degree burns, broken bones and head injuries, putting him into a coma which he may never awake from. Instead, my mother was in a polished, mahogany box in the ground with nothing but an over-expensive slab of stone to promise that she was actually there.

I curl into myself more, in the space of the backseat - bringing my knees even closer to my chest and tucking my arms in closer to my body. I shove my headphones forcefully deeper into my ears, not caring about possible future deaf-ness or how I'm plainly ignoring everything else in the car, including Sarah who is sat on the back seat with me. I have the hood of my way-to-big-to-not-make-you-look-like-a-potato hoodie pulled securely over my mass of curly black hair, so all I can see is what is outside my window.

The drive, however endless it had felt, eventually came to a stop and we pulled into the driveway of the home. I didn't bother to take in the street name, or flat number, or even what the house looked like. I pulled my iPod out of my pocket and turned it off – "You simply can't arrive listening to that thing," Sarah's mother had said. "You should be a bit more social." – before exiting the warmth of the car with a sigh.

I was glad for my extra-big jersey, because it kept me warm in the English weather. Sarah walked around the car and stood beside me. After a moment of both of us just blankly staring up at the house, she turned to me and pulled my hood off of my head before saying, "You'll be alright, kiddo."

And with that we were walking up the path, and we were at the door, and we had rung the bell and we stood waiting for a good half-minute before it swung open.

I remember when I was younger and my parents had some friends over for dinner and they bought over their fourteen year old son. I was only five at the time, but I remembered that I had sat with him in our second lounge, and we had watched Pokémon. I had begged and begged him to let me paint his nails, and in the end, after much debating I had won and forced him to sit still while I made his nails look as fabulous as any five-year-old could. That was the one and only time I had met my god-father. Now would be the second.

The door opened to reveal a man – though his boyish features threatened that title – in his early twenties. He looked confused for a moment, and reached up to move his hair from his doe-eyed face. He smiled politely after a moment and rested on the frame of the front door.

He was tall, and some people would even go as far as saying he was lanky. With messy brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, I would be lying completely if I were to say that I failed to notice how handsome he was.

"Good …" the man looked behind him into his house, before turning back and saying, "afternoon. How can I help you?"

"Hello, I'm Will, and this is my wife Susanne," Sarah's father said. "We spoke to you on the phone?"

"Oh, you must be looking for Phil," he said. "Just a second."

He disappeared into the house, and there came yells of names and thuds of someone going up stairs. The four of us stood around awkwardly together, not knowing what to say or do. Eventually, Susanne broke the silence.

"Well, he seems lovely – you'll feel at home in no time."

I gave a disgruntled laugh in my head, because I knew that I'd never feel at home and I'd never feel like I truly belonged because this wasn't where I belong – in a house with my godfather and his house-mate who were both in their twenties. I didn't belong in big old London with its millions of people and tourists who wanted to see the Big Ben or the London Eye. I did not belong and that was simple and clear and it would never change.

"Straighten yourself up a bit," Sarah's mother continued. "You don't want to make the wrong impression."

I glared at her – I had never gotten along with Sarah's parents, and the only reason I had agreed to stay at her place the past couple of days was because I had literally nowhere else to stay and I had been staying at her house the night it had happened – meaning what little possessions I had left had been the things I had taken to her house, anyway.

There was the sound of feet descending the steps this time and I turned towards the door – not sure what to expect appearance whys from my godfather since the last time I had seen Phil he had been a gawky fourteen year old boy.

A black-haired man, who must've been shorter than the previous guy, appeared with a large, goofy smile on his face. His blue eyes sparkled in what little light got through the grey clouds and he gave off a more childish vibe, though he must've been nearly twenty-six by now.

"Hello, I'm Phil," he said enthusiastically. "You must be Phoebe."

I stared in mute confusion until he chuckled in an adorable way and explained that he remembered me by my hair. I couldn't help but smile at him, if only a small smile, and I instantly felt a pang of guilt – my dad was in hospital and my mum was dead, I did not deserve to be happy when I should've been in either of their places.

Phil shook hands with Sarah's parents and told us we should get my stuff and come inside. Her parents went inside with Phil and Sarah and I went to the boot of the car to retrieve what little belongings I had.

"You're going to be more than fine here, what with those two around all the time," Sarah said, nudging me playfully.

Before I could reply, Phil's flatmate was beside us, smiling happily – which caused Sarah to blush because there was no way that he hadn't heard what she'd just said.

"Do you ladies need some help?" He asked.

"I don't have much stuff, so there's no need to bother," I said. It was true; I only had a duffle bag with a few items of clothing in it, my laptop bag and, I'm embarrassed to say, a jumbo pillow pet which one of my friends had given me for my birthday and hadn't left my side since.

Even though I told him not to bother, the brunette picked up the duffle bag and slung it across his shoulder.

"I'm Dan, by the way," he said, holding out his hand for me to shake.

"Phoebe," I said, meeting his hand in the middle.

"Sarah," she said, wanting to be involved – always, always wanting to be involved.

We all stood awkwardly for a second before Dan told us to follow him and we headed to the flat. Up the stairs and down the hall, (we placed my things in the hallway to be moved when Sarah and her parents had left), into a living area where Phil had taken Will and Susanne. They were already sat on the couch with a cup of what-ever-hot-beverage-they-had-wanted and Phil was just sitting down in a chair he had taken from the dining table.

"Take a seat," Dan said, gesturing to the couch while pulling out another dining chair himself – even though there was a bean bag lying by the TV, which either of them could've sat on.

Sarah and I moved over to the long bit of the corner couch, seeing as Will and Susanne were sitting on the main section. Sarah carefully patted down her dress before sitting down politely, while I plopped down in a not-so-lady-like fashion.

While they all talked about me and the money I would get from insurance and inheritance (since the future wasn't looking bright for my dad), I looked around the room, taking in my surroundings. To the left of the couch was a fireplace, around which hung what looked like Domo lights, and to the right was the dining table, from where Phil and Dan had gotten the chairs they were sitting on. There was the red bean bag by the TV, which I had seen just before, and everything seemed much too clean, as if they had cleaned the day Susanne had called and hadn't moved from one spot since then.

"Phoebe? Phoebs?"

Someone was calling my name, and I looked up wide eyed. I heard Phil and Dan chuckle, and turned to them confused.

"What?" I said to no one in particular.

"You've been looking at the same spot on the wall for the past ten minutes, dear," Sarah's mum said in sickeningly false kindness. "We were starting to get a bit worried."

"Oh," I said simply.

"We were just saying how we have to get going," Will said, his hand on his wife's knee. "Let you get settled in, and such."

"But if you want us to stay for a bit more we'd be happy to stay," Sarah said, her expression eager and her eyes only leaving Phil and Dan for a moment to look at me.

"Oh, no, no," I said far too quickly. "I'm sure you guys have places to be."

"Are you sure, I mean, I could stay the night to help you settle in?" Sarah said. I knew she just wanted to stay around to ogle the guys more, and I really couldn't deal with her much more.

Don't get me wrong, I loved Sarah, but over the past couple of days, she'd really gotten on my nerves. She had definitely gone down on my list of favourite people after some remarks which I could probably slap her for. At some points, I really just didn't know why I was friends with her anymore.

"That's alright," I smiled softly at her. "I really just want to unpack and sleep, so there's no point sticking around."

Sarah looked disappointed but agreed. Soon enough, they had stood up and walked down the stairs and were out of the apartment door and I'd hugged my friend goodbye. We promised each other we'd catch up soon and then they were in their car and driving away.

As soon as the door was closed again, Dan let out a sigh.

"Thank god they're gone. Jesus, they're posh," he said, running his hand through his hair and turning to me. "Phil made me be on my best behaviour, because apparently I'm not 'socially acceptable'."

I chuckled despite myself, and followed them both upstairs. Phil explained to me that they had cleaned out the spare room, which was now my room, and we moved my things out of the hallway.

"You can unpack your stuff, and tomorrow we'll go on an extreme shopping adventure!" He said, lifting his fists up in an adorable way.

"Sounds grand!" I chimed.

"Hey, Phil!" I heard Dan call from somewhere in the apartment.

"Yeah?" Phil called back out of the door of my new room.

"I'm making milkshakes, do either of you want one?"

"FUCK YES MILKSHAKES!" I yelled, thrusting my fist into the air in a victorious way. I trailed after Phil to the kitchen, where we found Dan pouring the milkshake into three glasses. I rushed forward, scooping up one of the glasses in both my hands.

I took a sip and let my eyes widen.

"This is literally the mother of all milkshakes, fo' serious," I said, before taking another, longer gulp of the drink. "It's like a super explosion of chocolate-y goodness."

Dan thanked me, and the three of us headed towards the living area. I managed to convince them both that Dan made the best milkshakes ever, thought Phil argued that I hadn't tasted his creations yet – I agreed to let him make me a milkshake tomorrow to see who would be crowned King of the Milkshakes.

"So," I said once we were all sitting comfortably – me sitting on the floor by the fire (which crackled and popped in its warm console) and Phil and Dan sitting on the couch, "what do you guys do for jobs and such?"

There was an awkward sort of silence, as if neither of them knew how to word their reply, rather than them not _wanting_ to reply. While I took another sip of my drink, they exchanged a quick glance with each other.

"We make videos on the internet," Dan said finally and I raised my eyebrows.

"On youtube," Phil clarified. "We make vlogs and stuff."

"I never said it was anything other than that," I smirked. "You must be pretty popular if you could afford a house like this then."

"We do alright," Dan said.

"Don't be so modest," Phil said, "Dan here nearly has a million subscribers."

I silently wondered how many of them were just subscribed to him for his face, rather than his actually content, and I pushed the thought to the side, knowing that the odds wouldn't be even.

"Oh shut up, you deserve to have them more than I do," Dan said.

The conversation moved on quickly from that point, and I began to grow tired from the travel and unable to uphold a conversation, so I excused myself and went to my room, collapsing on my new bed, drained.

I closed my eyes in hopes of possibly getting some rest and recuperating myself. Before I drifted off into sleep, a thought passed through my head.

Maybe Sarah's parents were right, and maybe I would be okay here, and maybe Phil and Dan will make me happy, and maybe this is what my parents would want for me.

But maybe, just maybe, I was crazy for thinking any of those things at all.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N from Bethany (RiverDapple): Thank you all for the reviews and such. Just a reminder that I am posting on behalf of my friend Josie, who doesn't have an account. She has included her own A/N below :3

A/N from Josie: before I keep writing, I just want to say thank you to the lovely reviews already! I must warn you, dough, there will be future trigger warnings for depression, etc, so if you're not prepared for that, you mightn't want to carry on. Yup, okay, enjoy and such.

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By the time I woke up, the little white numbers on my phone tell me it is twelve-fifty-seven – I had been asleep for about twelve hours. I had sat up with a start the moment I had woken up, and I now reached up to move my hair out of my face, only to find my arm numb from how I'd slept on it.  
I clambered out of bed and flicked on the light switch. My eyes adjusted quickly to the brightness and I made my way over to my bag, pulling out my pyjama bottoms and another shirt.  
The smell of home still clung to the material and before I knew it I was crying, and I don't really know if it was because I missed my parents or because I was still suffering from trauma or because I was just feeling like such utter crap over it all.  
Time passed slowly, and I composed myself. My head pounded, and I decided I'd test my luck in seeing if Phil was awake. I stumbled out of my room, and down the hallway. I wasn't sure which room was which, and I silently cursed myself for not asking for a quick tour of the house before I fell asleep.  
I pattered along in the darkness, looking to see if there was any light coming from the cracks between the doors and their frames. I came to a stop outside one of many others, and paused a moment, hearing nothing but the occasional tapping of keyboard keys.  
I knocked lightly on the wood, and listened for a reply. There was silence for a moment, before there was more tapping. I opened the door slowly, which allowed the glow of fairy lights to reach out into the hallway. I peeked my head inside, looking around the room and quickly gave a jolt of surprise.  
"I – I'm sorry, I was looking for Phil," I said to a confused Dan.  
"That's alright."  
He seemed surprisingly awake considering the time of night, and he was propped up on his headboard with his laptop on his thighs. He moved his headphones off his head and rested them around the back of his neck.  
"Hey, are you okay? You look like you've been crying," he said, sitting up and crossing his legs.  
"I just need some panadol or paracetamol or something," I said, turning away from him to walk out of his room.  
"I'll get it," Dan said, shoving his laptop to the side and getting up. He pulled his sweatpants up, and headed over to me, shaking his head a little as he tried to fix his hair. "You stay here," he added as he walked past me.  
I stood awkwardly, just looking around his room without actually seeing. I touched little knickknacks which sat around in their homely spots, and picked up a hat which was shaped like a llama, which I was rather confused about, and made a mental note to enquire about later. I wasn't really taking anything else in apart from that, and I decided I'd put the hat back in its rightful place (since it already looked like it had, had a little bit of wear-and-tear and I wouldn't want to break it).  
"Here you go," Dan said from behind me, and I jumped not having heard him come back. He chuckled as I turned around, two little pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Sorry for startling you."  
"You didn't startle me," I said, taking the pills from his outstretched hand and popping them in my mouth before swallowing them with a mouthful of water. They felt odd and unnatural as they slid down my throat – taking medicine or drugs not being something I was very used to.  
"Of course I didn't," Dan said, sitting down on his bed again.  
I watched him open a new tab on his internet browser and cocked my head to one side. I watched him scroll for about a minute, before he looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.  
"You do know what this is right?"  
"I like your shoelaces," I said simply, not letting him get the upper hand.  
"I stole them from the president," Dan said, narrowing his eyes at me as I gave a simple shrug. "So, um, what was wrong before? I mean – why were you crying?"  
I looked at him, straight-faced. He looked back at me, waiting patiently for my answer. I considered my options – I could tell him everything, about the horrible feelings I couldn't name and the terror of sleep. I could tell him that I needed someone to hug me, because that might hold me together for a bit longer, make me a bit stronger even. Or I could tell him that I was alright, that it was nothing – a stupid nightmare, which seemed normal enough, even coming from a seventeen-year-old; I'd been through trauma after all, it was completely normal.  
"It's nothing," I said at last.  
"Sit down," he says, patting the other side of his bed – the side closest to the wall. "It's okay to talk to me, I swear I won't bite."  
He winked at me as he said the last bit, and I wasn't sure why, but something about him made me trust him, something about the way he spoke and something about the way he just held himself made him seem trustworthy.  
I clambered onto his bed, awkwardly with my short limbs which felt longer and awkward-er than they were, solely because I could feel his eyes watching my every move and I didn't want to make a fool out of myself in front of someone who I'd have to live with for the next I don't know how long. I plopped down, my legs sticking out straight in front of me and my hands lying lazily in my lap.  
"I just had a nightmare, that's all," I said, not looking at him.  
There was a fluffy hat sitting between us, and I picked it up – stroking the soft inside absently for a while. It was warm and cuddly, and I didn't want to let it go for some reason.  
"What was it about?" Dan asked, and I looked over at him. He was watching me hugging his hat to my chest, though I couldn't figure out what his expression was trying to tell me.  
"It was just all burning," I mumbled, turning away from him again and looking down at my lap.  
"What was?"  
"Just… everything. I can't get rid of the smell of burning – burning wood, burning fabric, burning everything," I let a tear spill from the corner of my eye again.  
"What was it –" Dan stopped, rethinking what he was going to say. I looked at him, wanting to know what his question was. I gave him a half-smile which I thought was reassuring, but probably looked like a grimace – either way, he understood. "What was it like? I mean, obviously it wasn't nice and stuff, but –"  
"No, no, I understand," and I did, because there wasn't much that it could've been. "It was horrible, but not in the sense of the burning and the destruction. It was more the helplessness of it all; of not being able to do anything.  
"It was like when you leave in the middle of a movie to go to the bathroom because the climactic part seems miles away, but when you return you enter in that end bit of the movie after all the action; where you know what's happened but you still wish you could've been there to watch it all unfold. You know you couldn't have saved the main character, or your favourite character, but you still just hope that maybe it was all just a mistake, and it's all just a big joke, you know?"  
Dan reached over and grabbed the hat off me, staring at it as he turned it around and around in his hands. He didn't say anything for a while, and his laptop was left abandoned on his bedside table - his dashboard left open on a picture with a Game of Thrones quote pasted across it; as if it could hide its fandom-ness behind something so hipster.  
"It means a lot to me," and he was talking about the hat, of course. "I got it years and years ago …"  
He told me the story behind the fuzzy hat, which, as he talked more and more about it, I realised I probably shouldn't have taken. I sat and listened to him, and his voice relaxed me – the soothing tone of his words just washing my troubles away. He told me about the day he had gotten it and the days he'd worn it. He told me that no one but him ever wore it (apart from one or two times when he would let Phil put it on).  
When he was done, he sat for a moment, his forehead wrinkled in thought as he toyed with the hat. He looked up at me, his eyes assessing mine.  
"I want you to wear it," he said. "I mean, if you want?"  
In any other situation it would've been awkward, but it just… wasn't. I nodded my head – yes. Without taking his eyes off mine, he reached up and placed the hat on my head. It was warm and comfortable atop my head, and I smiled slightly.  
We got distracted by the screensaver on Dan's laptop, and silence fell between us from that moment. We sat together in comfortable unfamiliarity, just watching the swirling colours dance across his screen. It was as hypnotising as a lava lamp, and I couldn't take my eyes off of it.  
"Um, Phoebe?" Dan said after a while.  
"Yeah?" I murmured.  
"You should, um, probably go to your own room now and sleep," he said.  
I blinked a couple of times, and sat up, realising I'd basically been lying across his chest while staring at the laptop. I fumbled around awkwardly as I made to get off his bed.  
"Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Dan," I said in a rush. "And, uh – thanks and everything."  
I half ran out of his room, too embarrassed to wait for his reply. I scuttled to my room, closing the door behind me and basically leaping onto my bed. I checked my phone for the time, and realised it was nearly three am.  
I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, and it was just before I drifted off to sleep (with the quote that had been on that one hipster picture still drifting around my head) that I realised – I still had Dan's fuzzy hat.

I woke up early the next morning. Surprisingly full of energy I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. I couldn't hear anyone else moving around the house, so I assumed that Phil and Dan were still asleep. I tied my hair up out of my face and got to work on making breakfast. I owed them for taking me in, and I made a side note to make them breakfast at least once a week.  
I fried some bacon, and cracked some eggs into a pan. I felt as if I was dancing around the kitchen as I chopped some tomatoes in half and popped pieces of bread into the toaster. It was a delicious game of hide and seek, and I was a little kid again with the toaster counting for me as I waited and other foods hiding in places I wasn't aware of.  
I cut open a pack of sausages with a knife from the knife block on the bench and popped them in the pan with the bacon. I hummed along to my iPod, which was tucked into the waistband of my pyjama pants, and I danced around the kitchen as I waited for all the food to cook.  
"Mmm," I heard someone breathe in as the song finished, and I looked up, seeing Phil standing in the doorway, hair ruffled and eyes blinking sleepily behind glasses. "Smells good."  
"Sleep well?" I inquired, as I lifted a pan up and slid its content onto three different plates which I had set up on the bench.  
"Yup," Phil said happily, walking over to the kettle and turning it on. "Are you ready for a full day of shopping and excitement?"  
"Hells yeah," I chirp.  
"You better be." Dan's groggy voice came from the hallway and Phil and I chuckled. "What are you two even doing up so early, it's like six am."  
"Dan, it's nearly nine," I say.  
"Oooh breakfast!" Dan said excitedly, his eyes opening a bit more as he spotted the bacon. He reached out to grab a piece, and I wacked him with the back of my hand. "Ouch," he rubbed his arm and made a face.  
"Stop being a sad puppy and go sit at the table," I said, swatting them both away with a smile on my face. "Breakfast will be done soon."  
"Yes, mother!" they chimed before leaving the room.  
I finished making food and poured two cups of tea, before taking it all out to the living room.

We got home in the early evening, having to make multiple trips to and from the car to get all my new things inside. We had gone to every clothing, furniture and what-ever-else store to get as many of the things that I had lost in the fire. Of course the money all came from insurance from the house, and life insurance also.  
Clothes, books, CD, games and more littered my now cluttered my room, and an abundance of plastic bags and boxes could be found throughout the apartment. We all laughed and joked as we unpacked and made my room feel more homely.  
"I got it!" Phil exclaimed, as his phone rang.  
"It's your phone, you numpty," I laughed, "of course you're going to get it."  
"Ssssh," Phil retorted as he placed his phone to his ear. "Hello? Oh, hey, Alex!"  
Me and Dan continued to stack the new CD's into a pile, organised alphabetical by artist (of course). After a few minutes Phil returned to us, smiling happily.  
"So, what are our plans for tomorrow evening?" He said.  
"Being potatoes, but nothing else, why?" Dan said, placing a Marainas Trench CD atop of the pile.  
"Well, 'I've Got What it Takes' broke the world record the fastest selling single in one hour, and he's having a party at headquarters," Phil said happily.  
"That's great!" Dan said excitedly.  
"Can we please go?" Phil asked, dragging out the 'please'.  
"Of course we can, you turnip."  
"Someone please tell me what's happening?" I demanded, trying to catch on with what was happening. "Also, what the fuck is headquarters?"


	3. Chapter 3

Phil and Dan had been explaining everything to me for the past hour and a half. They told me about the Youtube headquarters in London, and about some of their YouTube friends, ranging from musicians to comedians to beauty-gurus. They told me about their subscribers and how crazy they were. They told me about some of the trips they had been able to go on because of youtube and the people they had met.  
"And we got to meet – are you ready for this?" Phil said, his face excited and lit up. I nodded. "One Direction!"  
"That's awesome! Did you fangirl?" I asked, smiling and laughing. I wasn't really a fan of the boy band, but I had to admit that I was kind of excited that they had met them.  
Before Phil could answer, Dan let out a yell. Phil and I looked up in shock, the drinks in our hands nearly forgotten and falling at the shock of the sudden exclamation. Dan was holding his iPhone in his hand and he was tapping away on the screen frantically.  
"I forgot about my liveshow!" Dan said, when we asked him what was happening. "I was meant to go live forty minutes ago!"  
With that he stood up in a semi-graceful, semi-awkward way and fled from the living room, into what I presumed was his bedroom. I turned to Phil, my eyebrows raised as I heard fumbling from around Dan's room.  
"Every Tuesday Dan does a liveshow where he talks and basically hangs out with his viewers," Phil explained as the brunette came running back into the room with a macbook tucked under his arm.  
"Okay, Phoebe, I'm going to have to get you to start the liveshow," Dan said, opening the lid of the laptop and typing away at the keyboard.  
"Oh, um," I said, looking unsurely at Phil, then back at Dan. "Sure?"  
"Okay, here," Dan said as I sat next to him, "when the person that's on now is done, just say I'll be here in a second and talk to everyone and stuff."  
I nodded unsurely and propped the laptop on my lap, muting the site. Phil walked out of the room muttering about checking youtube.  
"I just got a text from Ben, so I have to call him really quickly – I won't be long."  
Dan got up and went into the hallway, where I heard him start to talk to his phone. I sat by myself on the couch waiting ignorantly for when Dan's live show would start. I didn't have to wait long, considering as apparently everyone was really excited for Dan.  
"Oh – um, hi," I said when my face came up on the screen. The chat on the side of the screen popped up new messages every second and I found it hard to keep up with.  
'Y did it tke u sooo long 2 come on 2day danyul?'  
'DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!'  
'Where's our favourite internet homo today? Because you're not him.'  
I tried to read everything, but I just couldn't. I took a deep breath and smiled at the webcam.  
"I know I'm not Dan, but he'll be here in a minute – he's just on the phone at the moment," I said. "No, I don't go out with either of the boys – that's gross. I'm Phil's goddaughter and stuff, so don't worry, I'm not here to take away your, um, internet homos? Is that what you call them?"  
'Dan is our tall lesbian and Phil is our precious cupcake.'  
'Your so lucky that you get to live with them sjdgjds wegdsg'  
You're* I corrected in my mind as I read through the comments. You – fucking – are, bitch. I shook off my stupid obsession with grammar and concentrated on the matter at hand.  
"Not really – I've been here for a couple of days, and I already know that Dan is a smelly butt and that Phil leaves his damn mismatched socks all over the place," I laughed. "I'm Phoebe, by the way guys, since I see that some of you are asking."  
'omg yuu hve hare lyk Carrys but brwn lol! x'  
'When is Dan coming back?'  
"Wow, okay, some of you are either, like, six or really need to learn how to grammar or something," I said, wasting time of course. "And don't you dare bite my head off for that – I was joking, please don't kill me."  
In the hallway I could still hear Dan talking, though I couldn't make out what he was saying, because his voice was muffled by the wall and the door.  
"So how are you guys today? What have you all been up to?"  
There were many answers – some saying that they had woken up just so they could watch the liveshow and some saying that they had a shit day and they just wanted Dan. There was few and far between, and I started feeling agitated.  
"Is it cold where you guys are? It's kind of chilly in here, even though the fire's going," I commented, reaching over and grabbing the hat which I'd put on the couch after I'd bought breakfast to the table this morning.  
'JESUS SHE'S WEARING THE FUZZY HAT – I REPEAT SHE'S WEARING THE FUZZY HAT'  
'THEY'RE TOTALLY FUCKING WHY ELSE WOULD SHE WEAR THE HAT'  
'DEEBEE? DANBE? EITHER WAY, I SHIP IT.'  
I raised my eyebrow at the comments, but before I could reply Dan walked into the room.  
"The king has arrived!" he announced. "Have you been looking after my danasaurs?"  
"Um – I think I might've broken the Dandom."  
"Dandom?" Dan said confused, as he took his laptop off me.  
"I assumed that's what you would call your fan base? I mean, your name is a perfect – anyways, not important. Apparently this hat is super sacred to the people."  
Dan narrowed his eyes. He appeared to be deep in thought. "I don't think it's every really been called the 'dandom' – usually they all just combine with Phil's fans and call themselves the phandom. Wait – what were you saying about my name being perfect?"  
"The Phandom?" I broke eye contact. "As in, they ship you together and combined your names? I was just saying that Dan and fan were similar so you could've work it, man."  
'PHAN ARE MY OTP 5EVA'  
'Dan give me a shoutout please? It's my birthday!"  
'YOU TWO ARE SO CUTE OMFG I'M GOING TO IMPLODE.'  
I watched the comments fly up the screen and I could see me and Dan reflected back at me on the screen, sitting close together so we were both in shot. Dan had turned back to the screen.  
"Anyway, hey guys! Sorry I wasn't on at the normal time, I just lost track of what time it was," he chuckled to himself, and started saying hi to people.  
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and I slipped away and dug it out of my pocket. It was Sarah, and I sighed as I made my way to the hallway to answer it.  
"Where do you think you're going?"  
"I'm answering my phone, you twat," I said as I pressed the answer button and put the phone to my ear and closed the door behind me. "Hello?"  
"Phoebe, I was getting worried about you!" Sarah gushed, as I took a seat under a large painting on a set of stairs. "You haven't called or text me since we left you and it's been like over twenty-four hours."  
"Calm down, I've just been busy and stuff," I said. "We went shopping today and I got a lot of pretty cool stuff, like I got this – "

"Are you sure you don't need me to come and stay with you? Do you want to come back up here and live with us?" Sarah said, cutting me off.  
"No, Sarah, I'm fine here," I said shortly.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yeah, I think I just need some space from everything, you know? I think it'd be a good idea if we didn't talk for a while," I found myself saying out loud.  
"Excuse me?" Sarah snapped.  
"I didn't mean –"  
"No, you always do this! You're such a whiney little bitch, it's all about poor little Phoebe."  
"Sarah, that's not true, it's the opposite –"  
"Well you know what, I'm sick of your bullshit and I'm done with you."  
"I'm sorry," I choked out.  
"Me too; I'm sorry that I was every involved in your life."  
"Sarah, just one more question," I said, holding back my outbursts of words that I hoped would drown her if I let them free – hypocrite, arrogant, selfish, hateful, foul, manipulative. "Are you deliberately trying to hurt me now?"  
"It's time that everyone stopped babying you and sugar coating everything," Sarah said, before cutting the line.  
I sat there for a while, paralyzed. I couldn't work out if I felt heavy with regret or light with relief. I found myself walking to Phil's room, and before I knew it I had literally face planted onto his bed.  
"What's up, sport?"  
"Wyaefs heafds," I said into the duvet.  
"Come again?"  
I lifted up my head just enough for my mouth to be off the fabric, and repeated, "Life hard."  
Phil chuckled despite himself as he told me I was basically every fangirl ever. I groaned into the duvet and I felt him pat my hair softly. I rolled over onto my back, my arms spread around me randomly. I'd given Dan his hat back before I'd left him alone to go about his live show, and now I felt cold.  
"Sarah hates me," I let out.  
"Sarah? Oh, your friend that dropped you off?"  
"Yeah," I nodded. "I don't know if I care or not, but it hurts."  
"If it hurts then it mattered," Phil said, and I kind of hated him for his wise-ness but I was also kind of, totally and completely thankful.  
I lay in silence, not knowing how to respond, and Phil, obviously sensing my need for quite, carried on doing whatever it was he doing on his laptop. His words swam throughout my thoughts as I tried to internalise everything.  
There was a constant worry for my dad in the back to my thoughts all the time, and there was still the ache of the loss of my mother on top of that. I worried that my Dad would join her soon, and never get better. Worse than that I was worried that he'd become blank, unable to do anything. I was still haunted by the image of the flames that licked and devoured my house and I could still feel the heat on my skin.  
I was still riding on the worry that Phil and Dan wouldn't like me, and would want to get rid of me as soon as they could. I was adjusting to this new house and I was learning to live my house again, only days after everything. I was struggling with my constant changes of moods and on top of that now, I had the weight of feeling totally and completely alone.  
"I've also dropped out of school – I mean, I was in my last year and all but I'm not finishing," I said.  
"That's fine, me and Dan don't care," Phil said. "We'll support you with whatever. I mean, Dan dropped out of college and look at him now!"  
We both chuckled, hearing Dan faintly in the living room talking to his laptop.  
"I just feel like a completely fucked up piece of weird," I said.  
"It's a good thing to be strange, normalness leads to sadness," Phil said, once again so wisely.  
"You'd make a good Dad, you know," I said, smiling at him. "You know just the right thing to say."  
"Thank you," Phil said, as I crawled over and wrapped my arms around him.  
"OH MY FUCKING GOD," we heard Dan yell from the living room.  
Phil and I stood up, rushing into the living room, where Dan sat with his laptop, smiling widely.  
"I hit one million subscribers!" Dan said happily, as we sat on either side of him.  
"Good job, Danasaurs! You made papa Dan very proud," I said, since Dan's live show was still going on. "Oh, and good job to you too, Dan, since you did some stuff and it worked."  
Dan shoved me playfully and I pulled the hat off of his head, cause it to go every which way. He quickly tried to pat it down, but Phil just messed it up as soon as he'd nearly finished. I put the hat on and read some of the comments on the live show.  
'ERMAHGERD OT3'  
'She's returned esfdjsanf'  
'Does Phoebe make videos?'  
"Sorry guys, Phoebe doesn't make videos, but if she sticks around with us long enough, who knows, right?" Phil said.  
"She might even come to Playlist with us!" Dan said smiling.  
"Maybe. My favourite animal is a sloth, by the way," I said, answering another question.

Later that night, when I was lying in bed, my laptop on my thighs, I found a photoset of screenshots from the live show in the depths of my dash, and I saved them all, even setting one of them of Phil, Dan and me as my laptop's background.  
More and more posts about me started coming up on my dash, and I sat shell shocked reading them all. In the end I decided to look in the 'danisnotonfire' tag, where I found a fanfiction entitled 'The Lion, The Llama and The Sloth', which carried on into a read more.  
There was one text post in particular that I couldn't stop thinking about, because I felt unnecessarily guilty over it.  
'Guys, it's not Danbe, or Deebee,  
Dan/Phoebe is obviously the new Phan.'  
I knew that I wasn't intentionally tearing the two best friends apart, and they weren't even being torn apart, but never the less, guilt ate away at me.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N from Bethany (RiverDapple): Just a reminder that I am posting this on behalf of my friend Josie, who doesn't have an account :) She has included her own A/N below :D

A/N From Josie: Sorry this took me so damn long! I've been busy and things and I've been planning this story in more detail and seeing what road I want to take before I get to my ending. Anyway, it took me a little bit to get this done, but here it is and I hope you enjoyed C:  
(ALSO I'M NOT PROMOTING UNDERAGED DRINKING AT ALL JUST SO YOU KNOW DON'T KICK MY ASS)

* * *

"Hurry up, Phoebe! We're going to be late," Phil called from somewhere in the house.  
"It'll be okay, they're just people," I told myself under my breath as I stood in the bathroom, running my hand gently around my perfectly formed curls which I'd spent a good twenty minutes on. "People who are older than you and better at things – "  
"The cab is here, will you hurry up?" Dan yelled at him through the door.  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," I replied as I opened the door and almost walked straight into both of the tall men. "Jesus, okay, hello."  
Both Phil and Dan were standing in suits, bowties and polished shoes, Dan with his hands in his pockets and Phil with his arms crossed. They looked something straight out of James Bond or Men in Black or something. Either way, they both looked very attractive, and it took my mind off my nerves for a moment. I did, however, feel very inadequate next to them. I flattened the dress I was wearing – it was purple and felt almost like silk, with a black sort of shine to it. There was a silky ribbon around the waist which tied to the side, and I was wearing a pair of plain heels. (All of this which I had of course never worn before, since we'd bought them yesterday, and I felt rather not-myself in them.)  
"Well, come on then boys, don't want to keep the poor cabbie waiting," I said, walking past them, down the stairs, out the door and into the cab.  
Phil and Dan quickly jogged out the door and they joined me in the cab, Phil locking the front door as they left. They gave the cabbie the instructions of where to go and we were off into the midst of London traffic.  
"So, how many people will be there?" I asked, fiddling with the hem of the dress, which came just above the knees when I was standing up.  
"No clue," Dan said, "All of Alex's friends, I suppose. Okay, I'm going to take a picture for the internet, huddle up."  
I got up from my seat, and hurried to get in the middle of them because the cab was moving and I really didn't want to fall on my face. I had always liked the fold out seats because I loved the feeling of driving backwards and not knowing what was coming, though I wasn't so sure I liked it as much as I did when I was little.  
I laughed as I half fell into the seat having to need Phil's help to right myself again.  
Dan held his iPhone up sideways and took a photo of us all. Phil decided he wanted a silly one, so both boys grabbed a curl of my hair and made them into moustaches as I scrunched up my face in protest. I giggled at them as I watched over Dan's shoulder while he posted them each on Twitter.  
I got out my phone and went on twitter, going to put in Dan's username before realising I didn't know it. "Hey, I never asked but what are your usernames and stuff?"  
"Amazing Phil," Phil said, as he tapped at his twitter app.  
"Dan is not on fire," Dan said, "DON'T JUDGE ME OKAY."  
I chuckled as I tabbed at my screen, following them both and saving the photos Dan had posted, after having retweeted them.  
"Oh, look who just followed me!" Phil said, turning his screen to show his interactions, where my username was for a moment, before it was pushed down by more and more tweets coming in from people having just seen the photos.  
"Oh my god, they followed me too, let's followed them back," Dan said.  
"Jokes on you, I'm actually following you in really life," I said.  
Nerves bubbled inside me as we got closer and closer to the Youtube creator space and I felt sick to my stomach with anxiety. By some miraculous blessing, I had been able to adapt to interacting with Phil and Dan easily, and I had fallen into a comfortable relationship with them both. However, I didn't think I'd be able to do that with people who I didn't have to enjoy the company of.  
"There you go, lads," the cabbie said as we pulled over, before adding, "and lass. Have a good time tonight."  
I followed Phil and Dan into the building, hugging my waist as I walked. They led me into a loud room filled with people in their teens and twenties, all drinking and laughing and dancing to the music being played. We weaved our way through them all, Phil and Dan saying hi to a few people as they went, and me following like a ghost behind them.  
We walked down hallways and through rooms, the boys introducing me to different people and we chatted with them all for a bit until we moved on to the next group. They were trying to make me feel involved, I realised. They didn't want me to feel left out when they talked about people at the apartment, and I was semi-grateful for that.  
The sickness which I had been feeling in the pit of my gut passed as I met the girl called Carrie who someone had compared me to because of my hair in the live show. I could see what they had meant, though her hair was a lot prettier in the way it fell around her face and down her shoulders, and also in its colour. She had a vibe around her, which I think mainly came from her smile and the way it lit up the room in an almost Disney Princess kind of way.  
I met Chris and PJ who were fantastic and quirky; Chris being hilarious to talk to with because he made really good jokes, and PJ talking to me about Zelda and other various videogames we both loved. I met Bertie, who was just a about a year or so younger than me, who told me he'd been in Harry Potter (over which I screamed internally about) and I told him that I'd known someone at my school who had been in Doctor Who. I met lots of other people, all so different but all so the same in the fact that they were these creative, fun filled people who had so much talent in what they did and loved doing it so much.  
I was in awe of all of them, and for the night, I pretended I was one of them. I laughed and smiled, joking about video ideas and verses in songs which I knew nothing about. I drank a bit, like everyone else, and my head started to get fuzzy with the influences of intoxication. I stopped before I got drunk, so I could keep up my façade that I fitted in with these amazing people.  
I found my way to Dan at about half past twelve, after a lot of searching on my part, since he was alone in one of the greenrooms. He had his long legs slung over the armrest of an armchair which someone had dragged in there earlier.  
"Hey Dan, we're going to leave soon, yeah?" I said, as I walked towards him, my heels clicking on the floor. He nodded a bit, before slowly swinging his legs to the floor and standing up.  
"I want to tell you something," Dan said, beckoning me closer with his finger. "I just want to say that I think you're really beautiful," he said, winking at me.  
"Thank you, Dan," I chuckled, smelling the alcohol on his breath.  
"No, no seriously, Phoebe, I mean it. You look really…" he thought about what word he wanted to use for a moment, before having a eureka moment which lit up all his features, "sexy. You look really sexy tonight."  
I looked down at myself and shuffled my feet a bit, causing my heels to make a clack noise which seemed rather loud in the silence of the muffled music in the room. I found myself swishing my dress around myself like a little kid, never looking up from my feet at all.  
I felt a hand under my chin, raising my head softly, and I looked up through my eyelashes at Dan, mumbling a soft, "Thank you, it really does mean a lot."  
"It's sad that you don't believe me," he said seriously.  
"I never said –" I began.  
"I know you didn't, but you were thinking it, I can tell," Dan said, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'm drunk, not blind, Pheobs."  
My heart semi caught in my chest as he shortened my name. He hadn't even thought about using it and he didn't seem to have noticed either, yet it pulled at a heartstring which ached for past and not present, for comfort, and most of all, for home.  
"I know the look in a girls' eye when she doesn't believe a complement, trust me," Dan said without a breath of pause. "And trust me on this; you are beautiful, and you deserve to be told more often."  
"If only there were more people like you," I said, smiling at him, which earned me a wink in return.  
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, too lazy to try and get my arms around his shoulders. He leant down and wrapped his arms around me, as if I was a four year old who had just gone to hug her father after scuffing her knees from playing too roughly with the boys on the playground.  
"Awh, that's cute," I heard someone say as we pulled away from each other. "I'm glad I took a photo of that for the whole world to see."  
"We are feeling particularly mischievous tonight, aren't we, Lester?"  
"I have Ben outside trying to get a cab for us, so we have to get moving," Phil said after laughing. "GO, GO POWER RANGERS!"  
Phil and Dan headed towards the door, but I grabbed hold of Dan's sleeve, pulling him back. I stood up on my tip-toes and kissed him on the check, before mumbling softly, "No, seriously, thank you, Daniel."

I awoke to the sound of a ringing. I moaned as I rolled over and buried my head into my pillows, falling asleep again basically as soon as someone had picked up the annoying contraption. Why had phones even been invented anyway? All they did was allowed scammers to steal your money from the comfort of your home all from a cheap price of never sleeping again.  
There was a loud, frantic knocking when sleep felt only a foot step away, and before I could even sit up in shock, my door had flung open and Phil stood in my doorway. The light of the hallway seven or eight steps below lit up my room and the moment I saw Phil's panicked face, my mind started taking in every detail of everything.  
My dress was crumpled on the floor, next to my heels and other items of random clothing which for some reason were out. The desk which had two desktops (one being a big fancy mac, like I one had wanted for a while) and my laptop on it, which seemed to empty to be called a desk. I noticed the way the shadows played with the red arm chair next to the window, and the way my blinds swished gently in the slight night breeze which came in through my window. The glowing numbers of my digital clock seemed almost mocking as they rubbed in the fact that it was only quarter past three. I hugged Colin the Giraffe pillow pet closer to me as I sat in a top and pants, my hair a cascade down my back and over my shoulders.  
I watched Phil's Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed almost in slow motion. I noticed his hair sticking to his face and neck and how it pointed up in every which way from fighting with his pillows. He opened his mouth and I felt sick almost instantly.  
"It's your dad."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N from Bethany (RiverDapple): Just a reminder that I am posting this on behalf of my friend Josie, who doesn't have an account :)

* * *

"It's your dad," Phil repeated again, a little louder, as if he was unsure if I had heard him or not.

It was almost as if I was outside of myself, watching as I pushed the bedding off of my body; watching myself standing up almost fluidly; walking over towards Phil. I couldn't feel my body as my feet hit the steps of the two flights of stairs, and I didn't know where I was going until I had fallen to my knees onto the tiles with an instantly bruising force. I tasted vomit in the back of my throat and I felt sweat prickle up on my skin.

I felt as if someone had ripped into my chest by forcing their way down my throat, choking me as I sat up against the wall. Pushing the feeling of complete and total self-misery out of my mind, I opened my mouth.

"Why?" I said, yet no one heard me, because Phil was still trying to catch up with my fast movements, and I'm sure Dan was still huddled up in bed trying to deal with a slight hangover.

"Why?" I repeated, almost yelling, though my throat was hoarse.

"His – his heart, it stopped twice in the last hour," Phil said delicately, kneeling down on the tiles next to me. "He can't deal with all the burns and breaks and – they want to put him on life support because he suffered cardiac arrest due to delayed shock."

It all sounded too formal, like Phil had retained everything the nurse or doctor or whoever had made the call, had said so he could relay it back to me perfectly. I didn't like how it bothered me as much as it did, because it meant that I was getting attached.

'_The things we love will destroy us every time'_

"We have to go see him," I spluttered out, and as I talked, I tried to scramble to my feet. "Right now, we have to go! Come on!"

"Phoebe, slow down," Phil said, grabbing my arm gently. "I'll take you, I promise. We can catch the four o'clock train to Manchester; you just need to get ready to go, yeah?"

I got changed, putting on jeans and a blue varsity shirt I'd gotten at Top Man, which I covered with a sweater. I didn't bother to do anything with my hair, apart from putting it up in a bun to hide its bushiness. Pulling on some grey high tops, I stumbled into the living room, where Phil was sitting eating a bowl of cereal. I didn't think I could stomach any food, so I just stood in the doorway, waiting.

Before we left, Dan emerged from his bedroom with deep purple bags under his eyes, and sympathetic, sleepy words on his tongue. We were down the stairs and out the door by half past three, quarter of an hour after we had been awoken. The cold, early morning air was like being back handed on the cheek, and the sting of it remaining even as we walked into Euston Station.

It was all a blur, just like the things that passed by my window on the train journey. We arrived at Manchester Piccadilly hours later, and I soon found that we were walking into the hospital, making our way into lifts and going into my dad's hospital room.

"He has Arrhythmia, or irregular heartbeat," the doctor said. "It means that the heart is either beating too fast or too slow. In this case, he has Tachycardia meaning that his heart rate is above 100 beats a minute."

"His body isn't keeping up with the rapid change, and we want to put him on life support," the doctor tried to sooth us by talking in a soft voice. "He's gone into Cardiac Arrest multiple times, and we don't want to put his body through anymore strain."

"If we don't put him on life support, I'm afraid he will pass away," the doctor concluded.

I had refused to sit down on the chair beside my father's bed, but at those words I wish I had. My knees quivered and I had to catch myself on the arm of the chair to stop myself from falling. Of course, I knew it had been what the doctor was going to say, but it didn't make it any less worse.

"I'll leave you alone to make a decision," the doctor said, holding his clipboard firmly in his grasp. "Not to rush you, however, but you may want to make a decision sooner rather than later."

There was a heavy silence in the room then, as the door closed behind the retreating doctor; he'd delivered his news, he had to move on and save someone else or deliver bad news to other families. There was no point in him sticking around to watch a poor family member grieve over a lost cause. The silence of it all seemed to beat repeatedly at my ear drums, causing every other sound to be dulled by a high pitched ringing.

I watched my Dad's face in it's unchanging, almost relaxed state. It was almost as if he were dead already - pale, unmoving, and anything but peaceful. Everybody always talks about how the dead are peaceful in appearance, but in truth, they are anything but.

My parents had been about eighteen when they'd had me. They had been "high school sweethearts" who always wanted to "settle down together as soon as possible". That's what they told me anyway, until I was thirteen and my mum decided to have the safe sex talk with me, where she revealed that I was actually an "unplanned milestone" in her and my dad's relationship (or so she had put it). Though they never regretted the decision to keep me, they never did have another child. They were in their mid thirties now, and it wouldn't have been too late for them to change their minds.

Except it was too late now.

"Phoebe."

A delicate word spoken just above a whisper brought me back to reality. I knew I had to make a choice - in fact I already had. My eyes were fuzzy with moisture and I had to blink a couple of times to regain my sight properly.

"Do you know what you want to do?" Phil asked softly. I could tell he was treading lightly, not wanting to shatter the already broken fragments that made up what was my being.

I nodded, stiffly and shortly. The movement felt almost robotic and I never took my eyes off of my dad. I didn't want to say it out loud, not until the doctor was here. I had made my choice, and I would have to stick by it.

I sat on the side of my father's bed, his hand in mine. Phil had left the room, not wanting to intrude. The steady beeping of my dad's heart beat filling the room. I watched his face, hearing the beeping grow less frequent and stable, hearing the words of the nurse who had been in the room only about an hour beforehand run circles around my brain..

"Now are you sure about this?" She had said through her thick German accent. "If we don't put him on now, he won't have longer than two hours."

"Are you sure?" As if that was all anyone could say anymore. Yes I was sure, yes this is what I thought was best. Yes I did know he wouldn't make it without, of course I did.

"I'm sure," I had managed to croak out. "It's for the best."

"I'm not so sure if I was right about that," I mused now, as I watched his chest rising less and less.

It was a pain you couldn't understand until you felt it. Watching someone dying and knowing you could've kept them alive is the most ugly thing a person can feel. It was the only choice I could've made, but it still made me feel the most filthiest inside. I felt as blank inside has my dad would've been if we'd put him on life support. I felt as though the last ray of colour which I loved so much in my life had been erased and this time it was by my own hand.

My hand which was now in the slack, unresponsive grip of my cold, dead father-corpse.

It made me think of that quote again, the one that had been on Dan's screen that night.

"_The things we love will destroy us every time."_


	6. Chapter 6

A/N from Bethany (RiverDapple): Just a reminder that I am posting this on behalf of my friend Josie, who doesn't have an account :)

* * *

I awoke stiff jointed, hot and red eyed on top of my duvet. I rubbed my hand over my face, trying to wipe away the groggy feeling. A thin layer of sweat covered my skin, and I rolled over, trying to free the creases between my legs and arms.

Lying like a starfish with closed eyes, the first thing I thought was that I didn't want to be awake anymore. Sleep, no matter what it held, was always better than the feelings of being awake. A fly landed on my foot, and as I opened my eyes in surprise, I heard voices coming from down the hallway.

I got up, putting on a pair of shorts under the tank top I had been living in for god-knows-how-long, and opened the door. The voices of Phil and Dan carried up to me as I sat on the steps, trying to catch every word.

"You just need to give her time, Dan," Phil was saying patently. "She's just trying to live with everything that happened - it wouldn't have been an easy choice to make, you know?"

"Of course I know that, but spending all your time locked up in your room is _not_ living, Phil!" Dan said angrily.

"You don't think _I_ don't know know that? It took me months to get over my friend's death; do you really expect her to get over her _parents'_ death just like that? It doesn't work that way."

There was silence for a moment, before Dan replied, calmer than before.

"She's just missed out on so much already, and it's only been a month. I mean, she won't be in videos with us, she probably won't come to Cannes with us if we asked and we ask her weekly if she wants to come to BBC with us, but all she does is shrug. I'm just getting sick of watching her hurt this way, Phil, and I don't want life to just pass her by."

"Just give her time, she'll come to terms with it soon enough. Who knows, going to France for a day or two will do her some good."

I stood up, walking to the kitchen to get a drink, nearly walking into the glass door. I sighed a breath of satisfaction as my feet touched the cold tiles. I padded over to the fridge and peered inside, realising I hadn't really eaten much at all over the past four weeks, and that I was actually hungry.

Grabbing a glass of water, I rested my head in my palms for a moment. I didn't want to feel this way - so hopeless. I wanted to be me again, to feel alive, to _feel_. I would force myself to be happy again, to not feel the pain anymore.

Grabbing a small bag of crisps, I went to the living room, where I found the guys playing sonic. All previous anger or frustration which was there before was gone, and instead they were just yelling abusive nonentities at one another.

"Hey," I said, smiling at the both.

They both looked up, surprised. Dan instantly cast Phil a sideways glance, which Phil ignored and he looked at me instead, smiling.

"Look who hasn't melted in the heat," Phil said, looking back to the screen to make sure he paused the game.

"I've found that if you actually avoid direct sunlight, you'll still feel hot as balls, but you don't get burnt," I told them matter of factly, folding my legs under me as I sat on the couch. "So what's happening?"

"Well, Phil is being a little shit and dying at the same place in Sonic for about the twentieth time in a row as we speak," Dan said, leaning away from Phil's slapping hand as it came his way. "And I was going to go work on a new video."

"Do you need any help?" I asked, scrapping my thumb against my teeth, trying to get all the crumbs off of it.

Dan looked surprised, though was happy enough to accept my offer. We shuffled off to his room, complaining about the heat as we went.

"Would you like to do the honours?" Dan asked, looking at me.

"See you next week internet," I said, raising my index and middle finger to my forehead at the same time as Dan did. We laughed together and Dan reached over to turn off the camera.

"See it wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Everything went better than expected," I said, falling backwards onto his bed where we had been filming. "Sorry if I lose you some of your subscribers," I added, looking at him as he flopped down next to me.

The small fan which was situated beside Dan's bed beeped annoyingly, but was hardly audible under his cheerful laugh. It connected two wires underneath my ribs, causing a spark which made my cheeks pull up the corners of my mouth in a genuine smile. The sound of it made me forget how horribly sticky and sweaty I was from the summer weather (even though I had showered just over an hour and a half ago); It made everything less foggy to the eyes.

"You know when I said you were beautiful?" Dan said, looking at the ceiling.

"That time you were drunk? Yeah I remember," I responded.

"I meant it, you know - I think you're pretty awesome too, and my subscribers are stupid if they don't see that," he said, reaching over and grabbing my hand in his.

"I'm not half as amazing as you are though."

"Oh stop it, you," Dan said in a mocking voice.

We lay there in content silence for a long while, just letting the heat spark thoughts in our head. It was basically the same thing I'd been doing for the last month, though there was something different about it. The silence of human company rang louder than anything in my ears. It was never truly quiet with someone else around - the duet of air being pulled in and out of lungs at a matching, steady pace was soothing compared to the lonesome solo of just one.

Finally, Dan said he should probably get on to editing the video, since he'd tweeted that he was filming before. As he got up he told me half jokingly that he didn't want to disappoint the people who paid our rent. I agreed that it probably wasn't the best to piss off the people who also paid for our food.

I left Dan to edit and joined Phil in the lounge, where he was playing some free game on his phone.

"So what's new?" I asked, sitting in the bean bag chair.

"Nothing really, I've just been drowning in my own sweat," Phil said, putting his phone to the side. "OH! I've been meaning to tell you; yesterday Dan and I got asked to go Cannes for a couple of days to go to the Cannes Lions Festival. Would you want to come with us, or would you be happier staying at home by yourself?"

"I'd definitely like to come along!" I said, nearly jumping up with excitement, almost forgetting that I'd heard them talk about it a couple of hours ago.

"We leave on the 21st," Phil informed me happily.

We had left all our packing till the last day, in spirit of us all being major procrastinators. Dan's video had gone up and so far there had been nothing but nice things said about me. Well, only the things I had been taking to heart had been nice. Of course there were things said which hadn't shown me in the nicest of lights, there always would be, but the good outweighed the bad, and for that I was grateful.

Sarah had messaged me, saying she was sorry for what she said. I didn't forgive her, not entirely, of course, but I let it slide, putting it in the past. It would be nice to be able to talk to her when the time was right.

I stood at my wardrobe, pulling out clothes for the next two days. France would be even hotter than it was here in London, and I was excited to be able to lie on the beach for a large portion of our trip. I threw the clothes I pulled out onto my bed, ready to be organised when I was putting it all into my duffle bag.

After I deemed my packing good enough, I went out to the lounge where I found Dan watching some late night TV.

"You alright, Phoebs?"

"Yeah, I just need to lie down for a bit," I said, crawling onto the couch.

I liked talking with Dan - somehow a part of me deep inside myself had realised we clicked in some way. He was like the brother I'd never had, and I almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. I'd lost my parents just to find someone who felt like my brother. I shared my thoughts with Dan, and he laughed, saying it was probably because we both looked up to Phil so much.

Phil joined us not far after, and sat beside me. It felt like we were a family; not a normal one, at that, but a family no less. People always talked about how family had nothing to do with blood, and I understood that now - the feeling of closeness and togetherness was what made it all come together.

We ended up falling asleep on the couch together, somehow comfortable through the heat of being cuddled up together. The voices of the actors seemed to sing us to sleep, and I dreamt through darkness, for once feeling as though I was actually resting, rather than unconscious.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N from Bethany (RiverDapple): Just a reminder that I am posting this on behalf of my friend Josie, who doesn't have an account :) P.S - This is my favourite chapter so far .**

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**A/N from Josie: Before I start I just wanted to say to everyone that has positive comments on this story THANK YOU! But onto the main reason of this long AN: Okay so there was a review when the last chapter was posted and normally I don't do this, but I just wanted to clear this up. If you have no interest in this, then just scroll right on past **

"**Okay, I gave this story a chance. But as soon as Phil made his entrance, it became 100% clear that this is a shameless self insert fanfiction."**

**It's very nice of you all to have given my story a chance, more than anything I am grateful that for every story I have ever posted, there have been a small group of people enjoying my work. But once you make the assumption that this is anything but a work of fiction and identify it as something it's not, I'm not so grateful anymore. There's nothing wrong with self insert fanfiction, don't take me wrong but I see it as an insult of you to suggest that I don't have the intellectual capacity to even create my own original characters. Sure, all my characters are loosely based around any one of my qualities or experiences or feelings, but they are never fully me. A character would never be as dynamic or well built up if they didn't have part of the author in them. **

**I take your comment as constructive criticism, but let me give you some in return: if making your characters more like yourself in some way makes them stronger and/or better, and if that, in turn classes your work as "Self insertion", then yeah, I'm proud to say I'm a self insert fanfic writer, and you can call me shameless all you like, because I don't see it as an insult; there's nothing wrong with being confident in your work and not needing other people's praise to know that.**

**I will say it again - THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING CONFIDENT AND UNASHAMED ABOUT YOUR WORK. I thank you for giving my writing a chance, and I hope you have better luck elsewhere trying to find characters more to your liking. **

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The sun shone red and orange and pink through my eyelids and I could feel the heat glazing over every inch of my skin. I could feel myself almost roasting even under my swimwear and I could feel millions of individual grains of sand in my hands. I hadn't opened my eyes in what felt like hours, and I found a satisfaction in that - knowing that I didn't have to get up or go inside anytime soon.

The headphones in my ears spat out the steady beat of a drum, before breaking way to a deep, smoky voice. The waves were barely audible over the voice and the horror inspiring tales that it told. The iPod on which it was being played though lay beside me and the cool metal touching my side caused a chill to run through me. I had listened to four of these podcasts today already, and I had fallen in love instantly.

Out of nowhere, loud music started playing, and it wasn't even the good kind of music. I sat up, shocked and ill prepared for the disturbance. My headphones had fallen out of my ears but I didn't think to pause my content as I looked around for the cause of the horrible noise.

My eyes landed on a couple who had chosen to sit right next to Dan, even though there was so much beach left to choose from. They had a large boombox which was spilling out the horrible beats and made me wrinkle my nose. They didn't seem to notice our distaste as they lay tanning in the hot summer's sun, but Phil, Dan and I had all sat up out of shock. I let a long breath of air out and turned off my iPod, not seeing any point now in trying to relax.

"Come on, let's go for a swim," Phil suggested, sitting up a little bit straighter and eyes brightening in the sunlight.

"But I don't wanna," I whined, though I smiled as I crossed my arms.

"If I have to sit here for a minute longer listening to this shit I will literally commit homicide," Dan said, standing up dramatically and nearly putting his hands on his hips. "We _will _take drastic action ,Phoebe."

"You know what, I think that's a good idea," Phil agreed.

I was going to ask what that meant but then he leaned over and wrapped his arms around my waist, picking me up and carrying me towards the water. I kicked my legs around and wriggled in his grip, managing to break free from his grasp before we got close enough to the water.

"Not happening, Lester," I yelled, kicking sand up as my feet tried desperately to grip at it. I laughed as I ran away from him and sidestepped around Dan, only just missing his outstretched hand. I danced around on the beach, taunting them both as I was out of both their reach.

Dan stopped by our towels and tossed his sunglasses down in the bag we had. I watched as he pulled his shirt off over his head. The shirt was messing his hair up as it got caught on the hemline - yet for once he didn't seem to care. He smirk as he watched me, assessing what move I was going to make next. Phil had also gone over to take his shirt off, though he seemed to have less issues than Dan, his chest pale in the sun compared to his dark hair.

Out of nowhere, they both started running at me, like they had shared a silent conversation without me noticing, and had made a plan of attack - Phil coming at me from the left and Dan from the right. I made a break for it, running right in between them and feeling fingertips on my bare sides.

I laughed, looking over my shoulder to see them running beside each other with up lifted expressions. It was clear they were best friends, even in the way they moved beside each other. Their strides were in time and they didn't appear to verbally communicate when planning. Turning forward I noticed an old couple only a few feet away, and I hastily changed my direction, only narrowly missing their bags and towels as I stumbled on the sand.

"I'm sorry," I said to the couple, as I tried to right myself and keep running. "FUCK!"

Strong arms had captured me once again, yet this time from behind as they lifted me off the ground. I had let out a yell of surprise and I now kicked my legs in the air as the arms held me firmly to a chest, having managed to get a good grip this time.

Laughing was heard, and Phil, who had grabbed me, turned around to see what was happening. Dan was standing on our left, breathing a little heavier than usual like both Phil and I were as well. Before us a white-hair lady and her husband laughed whole-heartedly, saying something in French that sounded like endearment.

Phil carried me off to the water, and Dan followed close behind, making sure that if I managed to get free, he'd be able to catch me again. The water was splashing up their legs and I felt a few drops splatter onto my skin.

Out of nowhere he threw me in, my scream being cut off by the water. For a moment I didn't know which way was up and which way was down, but that was alright, because I liked the way the water held me in a sweet embrace. When I opened my eyes I could see that the ground had cut off sharply, and that Phil and Dan were swimming just a little bit away from the said ledge.

I resurfaced, my hair sticking to me like I was a drowned cat. I pushed it away and kicked my legs to keep myself above water. We swam for what was probably around forty minutes, splashing each other and play fighting. It was already turning to late afternoon as I jumped onto Dan's back, wrapping my legs around his bare middle as we walked back to pack up our things.

"What time is it?" I asked, resting my chin on Dan's shoulder as I gave a little yawn.

"Ice cream time!" the guys chimed together, picking up the pace to get back.

"Last one there has to pay," Phil said, running away like a small child would.

"Hey, not fair!" Dan call out, running to try and catch up but struggling with me on his back.

"I can get off but that'd mean I have to pay," I said, my arms hanging loosely over his shoulders, which shook as he laughed. I reached up to brush some hair out of my face and in the act accidentally touching his neck.

"WHAT THE -" Dan tensed under my body, nearly dropping me as his shoulders raised in discomfort. "Are you trying to get yourself kicked out of my house woman?"

The sun was setting over the hills, and its bold colours bounced off the water in vibrant beauty. We had gone out to dinner, having decided to get ice cream after our meal. The French really did know how to cook up a good dinner, and I had to make sure to not eat too much to ensure I could enjoy some ice-creamy goodness. We'd gone to dinner later than usual, purely because we got sidetracked when the guys got recognised and by the luxury shops.

Phil had bought me a cocktail from the bar, as I wasn't quite able to buy one myself yet. They didn't see it as that big of a deal, and laughed at me as I stared for what was about ten minutes at the drinks menu trying to decide what I wanted. After food we had gone to a cute little ice cream place which had every flavour imaginable, and the three of us turned into little kids at the site of it all.

We were now walking down the beach, watching the water ripple silently in the summer night air. Today had probably been the best day I'd had in years, even with the flying, which I'd never really been a fan of, and the guys having to go meet some people to do with the festival. I waddled through the water, my flip-flops in my hand as I watched the sun shrink away, giving life to the night sky.

The sky was black for a minute, holding nothing but dark emptiness. Then, out of nowhere, small pinpricks of light shone in the heavens. Firstly dull, then brighter and brighter, as if they were torches being powered up to guide someone home. There were still gaps in the sky, as there always was; dark pools of wonder and mystery, showing nothing of what they may hold. But there was light and energy and _life_ above us still, even with those small pockets of nothing, and it was nice knowing that there was something bigger than us out there.

I found myself staring for a long while, walking aimlessly while taking everything in. The water was luke warm, like a bath left too long, and the buzz of tourists floated to the beach on the slight breeze. There were couples walking hand in hand talking quietly to each other as they went, sneaking kisses every now and then. A flobby-bellied tom-cat prowled through a low wooden fence, flicking its gray tail lazily as it went. In the dim light outside a pub, the silhouettes of two moths dancing around each other was faintly seen, and beneath them, two people were leaning closely together, interlocked in an intimate exchange. The night was, impossible as it was, still with movement.

A tan hand rested on my arm, and I looked up a little shocked. Dan was standing beside me, smiling nonchalantly to cover the almost timid air around him. I looked around, trying to find Phil, but he wasn't to be seen.

"He went back to the hotel about twenty minutes ago," Dan said, when I asked where he was. "He has some stuff to sort out early tomorrow morning so he wanted to get organised tonight. We tried to tell you, but you were completely zoned out."

"Oh damn, sorry," I said, rubbing my palm over my face. "You should've gotten my attention before - why didn't you just touch me earlier?"

"A real gentleman always waits for permission from a lady," he said without a moments hesitation. His hair was curly from the water and he ran a hand through the side of it as he laughed.

I blushed, turning away from him as I covered my face. Yet when he turned me around we laughed together, having to hold onto each other as we realised what we both said. As I looked up again, I realised we were to be standing beneath the brightest star on the horizon.

"We should probably head back then, huh?" I said, looking up at him when the laughing had stopped..

"Yeah, I suppose we should," he said, looking back down at me with twinkling eyes.

I remembered the first time I saw him in that moment. I remembered how handsome I thought he was, with his messy hair and melt-worthy eyes. I remembered how tall I had found him, possibly even lanky. I remembered that I had felt my heart fluttered slightly in my chest - leaping in a nervous way; even if I wouldn't admit it to myself until weeks after.

"Come on," Dan said, holding out his hand to me.

I grabbed it with my own, momentarily surprised at how much bigger it was than mine. Feeling safe yet fragile at his touch, I walked a little bit closer to him as if the water would reach out and drag me out to sea - like his hold on me was the only thing that could keep me grounded.


End file.
